


Improbable Encounters

by Clair de Lune (clair_de_lune)



Category: Prison Break, The Good Wife, The Pretender
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:05:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clair_de_lune/pseuds/Clair%20de%20Lune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ensemble of ficlets written for a fic meme. Miscellanous pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improbable Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline-wise, those ficlets don’t always make sense, but in order to preserve my sanity of mind, I didn’t take this aspect into account. Please humor me? ;)

Meme gakked from anna_tarawiel. Step 1: Write down the names of 10 characters. Step 2: Write a fic of [at least] twenty five words for every prompt, using the characters determined by the numbers. DO NOT read the prompts before you do step 1.

 **Characters**  
01\. Sara Tancredi (Prison Break)  
02\. Miss Parker (The Pretender)  
03\. Gretchen Morgan (Prison Break)  
04\. Kalinda Sharma (The Good Wife)  
05\. Alicia Florrick (The Good Wife)  
06\. Peter Florrick (The Good Wife)  
07\. Jarod (The Pretender)  
08\. Michael Scofield (Prison Break)  
09\. Mr. Lyle (The Pretender)  
10\. Lincoln Burrows (Prison Break)

 **Prompts**  
1: First time 4  & 6  
2: Angst 7  
3: AU 1 & 8  
4: Threesome 3, 6 & 9  
5: Hurt/Comfort 5 & 10  
~~6: Crack 1~~  
7: Horror 10  
~~8: Baby Fic 5 & 9~~  
9: Dark 2 & 8  
10: Romance 4 & 7  
11: Death Fic 2 & 3  
12: AU 8 & 9  
13: Dark 4 & 3  
14: Threesome 5, 7 & 1  
15: Amnesia 2 & 10  
16: Hurt/Comfort 8 & 5  
17: Crack 9 & 4  
~~18: Genderswap 1 & 6~~  
19: First Time 2 & 7  
20: Angst 3 & 8  
21: Babyfic 1 

**FICLETS**

**1–First time, 4 & 6: Kalinda Sharma/Peter Florrick (PG-13, het)**

Neither of them is overly sentimental, and it’s not like it’s about sentiments anyway. There’s no need for flowers and dates; a few understanding looks serve as courtship. It starts on the couch in Peter’s office, his hands on Kalinda’s legs and up under her skirt, her smirk barely subsiding as they move on the inside of her thighs.

Both of them are practical – and just hedonistic enough – to tacitly agree that they can do it better than a quick romp on a couch at night. So they end up in a hotel room.

There’s a moment of awkwardness and grace inherent to any first time, at least in Kalinda’s opinion, as they lie down on the bed. Peter doesn’t seem to get this, feel this.

Because of that, Kalinda knows there won’t be a second time.

\- - - - -

**2–Angst, 7: Jarod (G, gen)**

What he never confessed to Sydney – and will never ever confess to anyone – is how at first, being outside of The Centre was painful, sometimes. Just walking down the street, looking at the people’s faces and seeing their pain, their love, their hate, their fears, their...

Hundreds of feelings, negative, positive; all exhausting.

\- - - - -

**3–AU, 1 & 8 : Sara Tancredi/Michael Scofield (PG, het)**

The first time Sara meets Michael Scofield, she’s puking her guts up outside of a frat house at Loyola. He asks her if she’s okay, gets a dark-glassy glance for that because yeah, and starts to walk away.

He comes back twenty seconds later and offers to drive her home. She shouldn’t accept; even in her current state, she knows that much. Yet she nods her head, follows him in his old wreck of a car and manages not to barf on the seats.

She wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache, all of her clothes on except her shoes, and a glass of water on her night stand. A post-it note with the words ‘Smart motto’ scribbled on it is stuck on the frame advising people to _Be the change you want to see in the world_ that she keeps on her desk.

Later, after the glass of water, a shower and clean clothes, she spots a number she doesn’t know entered in her cell.

She carefully considers whether she needs a Good Samaritan in her life before making a decision about the phone number.

\- - - - -

**4–Threesome, 3, 6 & 9: Gretchen Morgan/Peter Florrick/Mr. Lyle (R, het)**

Florrick is grinning like a fool as Gretchen strips down to her silk underwear and motions him to step forward. Behind him, Lyle smiles darkly. The guy may be smart and tough, but he’s so totally out of his game here, it’s not even funny. No idea what he’s getting himself into.

It’s always the smart and tough ones who are the easiest to take down, anyway. Probably something about hybris.

Florrick and Lyle are going to fuck Gretchen – she’ll probably enjoy it more than she should, knowing her. And then, The Centre and The Company are going to fuck Florrick – and Lyle doubts _he_ will enjoy it.

\- - - - -

**5–Hurt/Comfort, 5 & 10: Alicia Florrick/Lincoln Burrows (G, gen)**

She’s fresh out of law school, and he’s fresh back into jail. Court-appointed lawyer, habitual offender. It’s not that she was bad; it’s that there was only so much that she could do. She visits him in jail, once or twice, and tells him she’s sorry it didn’t work out better. He suggests to her not to get attached to her clients, but he does find comfort in her visits. Oddly, he also finds comfort in the fact that they stop. A woman like that, smart and caring and too much like Vee, he can’t disappoint her by always fucking up – and he will keep fucking up.

\- - - - -

**6–Crack, 1: Sara Tancredi**

I have nothing. I’m useless at writing crack on command.

\- - - - -

**7–Horror, 10: Lincoln Burrows (G, gen)**

The nightmares about the chair are bad enough. Death row and last dance. But soon enough, they’re followed by other dreams, visions of previous inmates sentenced to death and executed. They slept in this very cell. They lived their last hours in this very cell. They whisper to him about it, their voices low and rough, sometimes caring and compassionate, sometimes crazy and sarcastic. They fill his brain with images, show off their shaved heads, the bruises the electrodes have left on their skin, the dark void in their eyes.

And then, they start to walk by him even when he’s awake

\- - - - -

**8–Baby Fic, 5 & 9: Alicia Florrick/Mr. Lyle**

I really, really can’t do this one. Seriously. Who could do this one?

\- - - - -

**9–Dark 2 & 8: Miss Parker/Michael Scofield (R, het)**

She’s older, taller, more restrained in her violence, but she has something of Gretchen in her blue eyes and black hair, high heels and long legs, smirk and sarcasm.

Michael pins her to the wall and thrusts into her with abandon. He hears her laughter burst into his neck, against the side of his face, onto his lips when she forces a kiss on him. It infuriates him. He shoves in, moves harder, faster, and revels in her sharp intake of air. She pushes back onto him with the same kind of brutality he displays, but her hand around the nape of his neck is warm and caring. 

“Who exactly are you fucking? Who exactly do you hate so much?” Parker asks him. He stills inside of her and she laughs again at his bewildered expression. “Geniuses,” she sighs with an amusement and a resignation that speaks volumes about her. “So used to getting inside of people’s heads. You never think it can happen the other way around, do you?”

It’s not his name that she breathes out when she comes.

\- - - - -

**10–Romance, 4 & 7: Kalinda Sharma/Jarod (PG, het)**

He woos her with dates at the shooting range and vanilla milk shakes, tells her that her spunk reminds him of someone he used to know – except for the part where _she_ ’s not hunting him down – and kisses her breathless in dark back alleys. It’s nice and, for a while, she pretends to herself that it can work, even though she knows deep down that it won’t.

Because she doesn’t really want it to work. And he knows it because he always picks up on this kind of thing. He’s a Pretender, after all; he can spot a pretender when he sees one.

\- - - - -

**11–Death Fic, 2 & 3: Miss Parker/Gretchen Morgan (R, femslash)**

They fuck and it’s good – awesomely good – in a twisted and crazy way. Rough and intense, having Parker ache in all the best spots.

But Gretchen is reckless; brazen; a bit too much. As Parker gathers her mind and catches her breath, Gretchen whispers something about a praying mantis and what happens to their mate. Her mumbled words are followed by a silver flash right in front of Parker’s eyes.

Parker would love, love to ask Gretchen who sent her, if it was Raines or someone else at The Centre, if The Company has business again with The Centre and Parker is in the middle. But she reacts in a blink of an eye, on autopilot, and the small, sharp blade Gretchen meant for her is turned around and deftly pushed into the young woman’s neck.

Gretchen is all big blue eyes and dark red blood, and soon enough, Gretchen is not anymore at all.

Parker panics; for about thirty seconds. Then she grabs her cell phone and calls in a team of Cleaners.

Her second phone call – triumphant, quietly threatening – is for Raines.

\- - - - -

 **12–AU, 8 & 9: Michael Scofield/Mr. Lyle (PG, slashy)**  
Warnings: Implied non-con, possibly incestuous feelings

In which Michael Scofield is locked up at The Centre for displaying Pretender-like abilities, Mr. Lyle is jealous of his sister’s obvious interest in the new guinea pig and proceeds to play with her shiny new toy.

\- - - - -

**13–Dark, 4 & 3: Kalinda Sharma/Gretchen Morgan (R, femslash)**

They both use sex and threats and ploys to get what they want, from pretty much anyone including one another, and it can’t end well. It won’t end well. There’s no affection, certainly no love, and hardly any respect. But, fuck, as long as it lasts, it does feel good to be as openly rude and ruthless.

\- - - - -

**14–Threesome, 5, 7 & 1: Alicia Florrick/Jarod/Sara Tancredi (PG-13, het, femslash,)**

In which Alicia is wrecked because her husband betrayed her, Sara is wrecked because her not-boyfriend betrayed her, and Jarod ends up in Chicago between the two of them. He means ‘between’ literally. He’s never really got the appeal of three-ways and watching two women together – up until the moment where Sara’s red hair fans all over Alicia’s stomach and thighs. He honestly aims to soothe their pain, but it has to be one of the most fascinating and enlightening means he’s ever resorted to in order to help someone.

\- - - - -

**15–Amnesia, 2 & 10: Miss Parker/Lincoln Burrows (R, het)**

There’s a warm body – could be worse, could be a cold corpse given her line of work – in the bed next to her. Tall and bulky and mid-twenties, and... Right, could definitely be worse, indeed.

She tries to move and aches in places that shouldn’t ache.

She drank herself into stupor last night. Too bad she can’t remember why the places that shouldn’t ache do ache.

The man stirs and shifts, yawns and opens his eyes. Bleary, as confused as hers, and a nice blue-green. Shit. Too bad she can’t remember.

Then self-preservation kicks in and she grabs her gun from the nightstand. He puts up a defensive hand in reaction but smiles at her.

“You know, everything I may want to do to you, I think I already did it last night.”

Her handucffs hang from the bedpost and he has red marks around his wrists.

She has red marks around her wrists too, by the way.

“I’m Lincoln,” he offers in a gentle voice. Seems like they’re past the point of presentations, but it’s always good to know. “I’m gonna make some coffee. If you want to, huh... bathroom is that way...”

She doesn’t avert her eyes when he gets up. She watches; she stares. Fuck it, there are three used condoms – and one torn up – on the floor so it’s not like she hasn’t seen it all last night.

Yeah, really too bad she can’t remember, but that’s the catch. She can’t remember because she was drunk; she wouldn’t do this if she wasn’t drunk.

\- - - - -

**16–Hurt/Comfort, 8 & 5: Michael Scofield/Alicia Florrick (PG, het)**

“You look like you could use a coffee.”

Alicia doesn’t pick up men in bars. She never did. It’s just not like her. Even if it had been like her once upon a time, it would be totally out of the question now for a hundred reasons.

She doesn’t pick up men in bars, especially when they’re about ten years younger than she is; even when they’re that cute – hot, Kalinda would say with that quiet and total lack of shame.

“A coffee?” he points out with a smirk.

“I think you’ve had enough whiskey already.”

“My brother...” he begins and stops as abruptly as he’s started. He shakes his head and that’s as much as she’ll know, that his brother is in trouble. She knows about brothers in trouble. “You’re beautiful.”

She doesn’t blush. She’s way past the point where this kind of compliment made her blush – though not past the point where it lights up pleasant warmth in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re a brunette.” He drawls, either out of tipsiness or attempted seduction, his voice a bit hesitant but smooth as silk. “I like brunettes.”

“Yes,” she says, “Definitely need a coffee. A very black, no cream, no sugar, one.”

He tilts his head to study her face carefully and then concedes, “You may be right. But you’re still beautiful.”

She buys him a very black coffee, no cream, no sugar, and gives him a ride home. When she leans in to open the car door for him, the kiss she intends to give him is an almost big sisterly one.

The one he does give her is anything but brotherly.

\- - - - -

**17–Crack, 9 & 4: Mr. Lyle/Kalinda Sharma (PG, het)**

Even though the mini-skirts and leathers boots remind him of someone he has a peculiar interest in, it totally can’t work. She lives on milk; he’s all about Chinese food.

(A/N: This is a yucky one, for the record, as Mr. Lyle has been suspected of eating his mail-order bride disguised as Chinese food.)

\- - - - -

**18–Genderswap, 1 & 6: Sara Tancredi/Peter Florrick**

I have nothing.

\- - - - -

**19–First Time, 2 & 7: Miss Parker/Jarod (PG-13, het)**

She stands before him, her eyes planted on his, and undresses slowly, one piece of clothing after another, taking her time. Jacket, gun and shirt, skirt and stilettos, and when only her bra and panties remain on, she puts her hands on her hips and crooks an inviting eyebrow at him. Who would have thought that impatient, snappish Miss Parker would be so nonchalant and relaxed when they get there?

He sits on her bed and orders _his_ impatience to emulate her and enjoy the show, the moment, the intimacy. It’s twenty years too late, but better late than never, isn’t it?

He blinks. If he thinks it’s twenty years too late, does that mean she should have been his first? She should have. She was his first girl, his first kiss, and probably his first heartbreak.

She walks towards him with that familiar predatory look on her face. For once, he really, really doesn’t want to escape her.

\- - - - -

 **20–Angst, 3 & 8: Gretchen Morgan/Michael Scofield (R, het)**  
Warning: Dub-con

“You think I liked doing it, Michael? You think I like torturing people?”

Yes, he thinks she does, yes, but he doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything, fascinated by her voice and her eyes, by the way his chin stings from the punch she gave him. Not a slap. Gretchen Morgan doesn’t slap you: she punches you in the face, and it splits your lip open. And the hurt feels good because you deserve it.

He pounces on her and pins her against the wall of the motel room, half-fearing half-hoping she’ll it him again.

She doesn’t disappoint him. Her forehead connects rudely with his nose, and blood starts running down his mouth. She grins triumphantly.

It turns him on. The blows he deserves, the blood he sheds, her dark satisfaction – her breasts and stomach pressed into him too. It started when he spotted her in LA and dragged her to the motel room to question her. The exhilaration of finally having her in his hands, in his power.

It disgusts him, the way he reacts to her proximity. How he’s hardening in his pants, how he breathes hot and fast against the side of her face. How he wants her, and even more so, the reasons why he wants her.

She grinds against him and whispers into his ear, “It’s not cheating when it’s just to get even with someone; to punish her.” Her hands have slipped out of his grasp and are undoing his belt, opening his jeans. “Don’t you think Sara deserves to have her tormentor properly punished? Don’t you think she would punish _your_ tormentor?” She licks her lips. “Not that I would mind your pretty girlfriend standing between my legs instead of you, right now.”

He shoves her harder into the wall and watches with satisfaction as the back of her skull hits the plaster, as her head bounces slightly.

There is a bed, but he doesn’t bother with it. He doesn’t even bother bending her over the ratty couch. He has no intention to make it last long enough to need getting comfortable.

He pushes her panties aside – flimsy and silky and wet – and slides into her in one rough motion.

She groans, closes her eyes, and tells him, “Make it hurt.”

\- - - - -

 **21–Babyfic, 1: Sara Tancredi (G, gen)**  
Note: Tiny companion piece for ~~the WIP from Hell~~ Story of Faith.

Maternal instinct? It kicks in fast enough. It’s not like she never wanted a baby, and it’s not like she didn’t have a few months to get used to the idea of getting one here and now, anyway.

Maternal instinct, though, does not teach her how to change a diaper when Baby is squirming and writhing – and did he just really pee all over her tee-shirt?

It’s Lincoln who teaches her that. She’ll feel dumb later, when she’s done being relieved and grateful.

END

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